Not One of Them
by Vampiric Phantoms
Summary: Oneshot. Erik finally finds a place he semifits into. But three jealous men are bent on destroying ot for him.


**A/N: **Here is a story that popped into my head while I was watching Lion King II Simba's Pride. The song featured in this story is called One of Us. Tell me what you think!

-

**Not****One** **of** **Them**

Four months is all it took. Just for months and a nice little village has accepted Erik. Of course it took a lot of pleading and getting used to the site of his face, but in the end it all worked out.

The priests of the local church were kind enough to give him a place to sleep at night. Seeing how he had spilled out his soul at the alter they took pity on him. In exchange for a room he agreed to play for them at mass. He was quite content with the arrangement and was very grateful.

But, of course, with every good think bad things came with it. These bad things happened to be called Blaine, Tyler, and Derek. They were all about twenty and were members of their parish's coir. They were nicely built and very handsome. But above all, they were extremely jealous of Erik's talent.

So one night they come up with a plan. They were to sneak to the church and vandalize it. Tear all the choir's books and break the massive organ. They were then to steal Erik's mask and drop it at the scene. No one would suspect that three good Christened choir boys would have done it.

And that's exactly what they did. Deep into the night, when everyone was fast asleep they snuck into the church. They shredded every piece of parchment. They even managed to push the massive organ over. Everything that could destroy they did. And for the final touch, Tyler took, from his bag, Erik's mask and dropped it right in the middle. That simple act sealed Erik's fate.

-

Erik was woken up by a load banging on his door. Trudging out of his bed he made his way to the door and opened it. Standing before him was four priests, who seemed extremely angry. The pastor of the church, Father Dragonne, was standing directly before him, holding his mask. "Why?" he asked. "What have we done to deserve this?"

Erik looked at them confused, "What happened?" he asked. More questions drifted throughout his mind but he found that to be the most appropriate. Only one question, though, nibbled at his mind, and that was: How did they get his mask?"

Father Dragonne beckoned Erik to follow him, which he did. As they walked, Erik became more and more uncomfortable. It seemed as of they were escorting him to wherever they were headed. He had Father Dragonne in front of him, a priest on each side, and one behind him. It seemed they were making sure he wouldn't run.

They 'escorted' him to the church, and what Erik beheld astonished him. The church was in total disarray. Papers were thrown everywhere, the organ was smashed, and pews were tipped over. There was a group of townspeople, including Blaine, Tyler, and Derek, who were glaring at him as well.

He looked around at it all and it clicked in his head. "You don't believe I did this," he said looking at the priests. "Why would I want to do something like this?"

"Well, then, how do you explain this?" Father Dragonne asked holding up his mask. "We found it right in the middle of this mess."

He shook his head, "I…I don't know," he said. "The person who did this must have stolen it from me," he added desperately. His life had finally come to order, to have a meaning. He couldn't believe it was shattering once more, Then again, his life never went the way he had hoped it would.

Derek stepped forward, "I saw him do this last night," he lied. "I came here to pray and when I opened the door I saw him destroying everything!"

"No! I didn't do this," he said looking at all of them. The people started crowding around him. He stepped back from them, backing up to the doors.

"**_Deception!"_** Blaine yelled angrily.

"**_Disgrace!" _**Derek yelled after her.

"**_Evil as plain as the scar on his face."_** A random man sang.

_**Deception**_

_**Disgrace**_

_**He asked for trouble the moment he came**_

The continued to move in on him as he continued to back away. His back soon came in contact with the doors. He looked at them all in horror as their voiced merged into one.

_**Born in grief**_

_**Raised in hate**_

_**Helpless to**_

_**Defy his fate**_

He got the doors open and ran outside. Turning around, about to take of running, he saw more people staring at him. It seemed they had seen the church as well and were waiting for him. He got around them and began to run. But to where he didn't know.

_**Let him run**_

_**Let him live**_

_**But do not forget**_

_**What we cannot forgive**_

He looked around frantically for a safe place, a sanctuary. Finding none he decided his best vet was out of the town completely. He ran that way as the townspeople followed him.

_**And he is not one of us**_

_**He has never been one of us**_

_**He is not part of us**_

_**Not our kind**_

He ran to the edge of town as fast as his legs would carry him. He was now desperate to escape them, to escape another mob that seemed intent of destroying his life. He looked behind him and saw they were close to him.

_**Someone once lied to us**_

_**Now we're not so blind**_

_**For we knew he would do what he's done**_

_**And we know that he'll never be one of us**_

He made it our of the boundaries of the town. Though he never stopped running the people did. They didn't stop calling after him though. Now they seemed more desperate for him to hear them.

"**_He is not one of us," _**sang a woman.

"**_Deception," _**they yelled to him.

"_**Disgrace."**_

As he ran their voices faded. He couldn't bear to listen to them. How could they think he would do that He had no reason to destroy that church, no reason to vandalize its relics, its music.

He finally allowed himself to collapse inside a cave five miles out of the town. He fell to the ground crying, actually crying. He pulled himself up to a sitting position, resting against the wall of the cave. He looked out the opening as a thunderstorm started up. _'How quaint,' _he thought, _'Weather to match my mood.'_

As his breathing became less labored and he didn't feel as if his throat was in fire, he reached up and placed a shaky hand on his deformity. He could still hear the people as they sang. '_Evil as plain as the scar on his face'_ they said. He had hoped they had learned to look past his face. But no, it was a fool's dream. All any one would ever see when they looked at him was his face.

He sighed as he let his hand drop. One question now remained in his mind. A question he had always smothered because he was desperate to prove the gypsies were wrong, that he could make it in the real world on his own. The question…was there a point in him living any more?


End file.
